


Fuck you, Joshua Dun.

by LoudandDangerous



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Cheating, Infidelity, M/M, Murder, Needy Bottom Tyler, Trophy Wife Tyler
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-09 15:09:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5544614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoudandDangerous/pseuds/LoudandDangerous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em> "Joshua Dun, you little motherfucker." <em> Tyler glares to the</em></em> <strike>trash</strike> <em> man <em> beside Josh.</em></em><br/>"And you…Have you ever wondered how antifreeze tastes?" He smirks, holding up the drained empty bottle of blue liquid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fuck you, Joshua Dun.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [parcourtalara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/parcourtalara/gifts).



> I AM SO SO SORRY BRUH I WAS GROUNDED AND IM POSTING THIS INCOGNITO BUT I SWEAR IM STILL ALIVE GUYS IM JUST GROUNDED BUT HERE YOU GO

"I made your favorite…" Tyler holds out the pan to Josh, trophy wife smile to the shorter man in midnight blue. Suit clinging to his curves, lips tightly pressed into a line while he nods over briefly and nods. Tyler stumbles behind, a lost ducking submissive to his partner.

 

"Thanks, hon." Tyler looks at Josh like he's the moon reflecting on the ocean. If only Josh looked at him the same way, and not as if Tyler were a rat he stepped on by accident. "Hey babe, I gotta run." He pecks Tyler on the cheek, Tyler notices a scent of cologne that he knows Josh doesn't own. It smells like Aerocrombie and Fitch, dark and menacing, gross. He crinkles his nose in response, but shares out the pasta onto two plates.

 

"At least come eat something…? You've been out all day and now you won't even--"

 

"Said I gotta run, babe. I'll come heat it up later." He places his hand on Tyler' back, the latter smiles hopefully before he realizes it's only to push him out of the way. "Promise I'll call, 'kay?" Tyler keeps the smile, waving off shyly. Josh stares him down, mildly disgusted and Tyler doesn't get why. He doesn't say a final goodbye, and Tyler is left with the cologne like a ribbon waving across his body.

 

"See ya later…" He frowns, leaning on the counter and eating the pasta alone.

* * *

  ~~~~In all honesty, Tyler was a nice person. He--he washed the dishes, he tried staying up to watch X-Files re-runs with Josh at midnight on some channel that they had to buy because it didn't come with their cable plan, he baked cakes, he _supported_ Josh. Tyler was Josh's trophy wife, and it would always be that way. Sitting beside Josh right now, leaning on his shoulder, watching Scully and Mulder on the screen. Tyler imagined this is what married life would be like. He can deal with this. So what if Josh goes to the store 14 times a week and more often than not comes back with nothing? So what if he went to pick up Tyler's birthday cake and came back 2 hours later with a melted cake? So what if he missed Tyler's entire birthday party when he was working late at the office?

 

It's hours until Josh comes back home; Tyler waiting patiently on the couch for him. "Sweetheart, we should learn French." Tyler brings up the idea, trying to appease Josh's usual demand for sex. "It would be nice in bed." Crawling on the couch, closer to Josh sitting beside him.  Breathing hot and heavy on Josh's neck, biting down but not hard enough to give Josh a hickey. Small teeth nibbling at Josh's neck. Cupping his hand around Tyler's ass, biting his lip and leaning his head back, arching when Tyler tries harder to give him a bruise.

 

"You--you're trying so hard…and it's not working, babe." He shakes his head, Tyler pouting while Josh rolls his eyes. "Why don't I take the lead?" He pins Tyler's hands above his head, licking his neck on the couch and biting down  _hard_ on Tyler's shoulder. "You're playin' a  _dangerous_ game, Joseph…how 'bout I take you to poundtown?" 

 

Pulling Tyler up by his arms, gripping him up the stairs and slamming the bedroom door. "…hmm. Should I prep you and just jump right in?"

 

"I--it's been a week, Josh…please just jump right in." Josh fumbles with the condom, trying to rip it open with his teeth.  _"_ _….please."_ He rips open the foil, tossing it aside, rolling it on; popping open the bottle of lube and--

 

\--and stopping right in his tracks when his cell phone rings. There's some mumbling on the other end, Tyler waiting patiently under Josh, practically pawing at himself, waiting for Josh to fuck him. Josh doesn't reply, he simply ends the call and kisses Tyler on the forehead. "Goddamn, I love you so much baby." He caresses Tyler's cheek, leaving a trail of kisses down Tyler's neck and rolling his hips just the way that makes Tyler go mad. "…but I gotta run." He pulls off Tyler's neck and slips up his briefs. Tyler eyeing the bulge in Josh's briefs with pure lust. The things he wants but can't have. 

 

"What the hell?"

 

"I've been helping the new intern, Dustin. He's a pretty nice guy, but he's clumsy." He crosses his fingers behind his back, Tyler fails to notice. "Working late at the office pays off all the time, though."

 

"But you're never here. Wanna know what I do alone without you?" Whispering to the shell of Josh's ear, shivering crunching down his spine. Holding up two fingers, trying to sexily tell Josh he's been fingering himself.

 

"Don't really care. I'll tell you what, how about I buy you a toy for when I'm away?" Tyler's smile fades, Josh's smile remains. "I know a store that sells really good ones. _Perfect_ for you when I'm at work." Tyler pushes away, baffled and scowling. 

 

"No! Why the hell--what the fuck?!" He shakes his head disgusted. "For the first time in a week, I think we're actually going to get it on and then you pull out and offer to buy me a fucking dildo?!"

 

"Babe, I said I need to run." Josh scoffs, pulling on his blazer and snatching his keys. 

 

"You didn't even take off the condom?" Tyler feels the tears prickling, rolls his eyes to avoid it. 

 

"Why am I waisting a good un-used condom?"

 

"I don't know? Maybe you could use it on ME?!" He pulls on his shirt. "Forget it….and hey, you said Dustin's a new intern?" 

 

"Mmmhmm….He started just last week." He straightens his tie, pecking Tyler on the cheek.

 

"Invite him over. You seem to really hit it off with him." Tyler rolls off the couch, heavy in his chest and contemplating using his two fingers for the 9th time this week. "I'll make dinner." He gives Josh his honest smile, Trophy Wife within prevailing. 

 

"Sure thing." He's out the door, slamming it behind and leaving cold air brushing against Tyler's body.

* * *

 

He's dirtied the sheets again, Josh away picking up Dustin leaving Tyler to his own devices. Alone under the sheets and spent, subtly regretted rebuking Josh's offer to buy him a toy. "Fuck you, Josh. You're such a rat." Tyler mumbles, pulling out his fingers and remembering the pasta on the stove. He washes his hands, dragging himself to the kitchen and stirring the boiling water and noodles. "It's my fault. I--I can't please him in bed. He's too good for me. I'm stupid. Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! Stup--fuck." He cries, the bottle of olive oil tipping off the counter and shattering into a million bits of green glass pieces. He tiptoes across the tile, like lava on the floor when he tries to retrieve the broom and stepping on the glass, sharp shards digging into his feet.

 

He falls to the floor, into more glass and rolling his eyes until he sees it. Under the counter. _Rat poison._

 

He snatches the box, pouring all of it into the pot when the door clicks open. He's got a face to a name now,  _Dustin._ Arm slung around Josh a little too affectionately. Laughing at something Josh said moments earlier. Josh looks at Dustin like he's the moon reflecting on the ocean. He looks at Tyler like he's a rat in a New York mezzanine. To be honest, Josh looks like he's rather hump Dustin right there and then. It's Dustin's fault.

 

The melted birthday cakes. The missed birthday party. The missing condoms. Grocery store trips. 

 

Tyler dumps the rest of the box in the pot. "Hey sweetheart, just sit at the table. Pasta's almost ready."

 

"Again, babe? It seems like all you ever make is pasta…" Josh pulls out a chair for Dustin, Tyler snickers under his breath because the last time Josh pulled out a chair for him, was at their wedding. 

 

 _Thing is, They got married 4 years ago._  

 

Josh opposite of Dustin, straightening his bow tie and smiling his best when Tyler comes around. Subtly, he wants to wait for Josh to pull his chair out for him. Wants Josh to know that he should at least try. Until Tyler realizes that physically, he  _can't_ pull out his own chair. He  _could_ set down the plates of pasta, but that's no fun. Especially since Josh is busy playing footsie under the table. 

 

"Josh, sweetheart, could you pull out my chair please?" It takes him a while until he looks up, Tyler struggling to kick the chair out from underneath him.  _"Please, babe?"_

 

He's rather upset that he has to get up, doesn't hesitate winking to Dustin across the table. Tyler sets the plates down, Josh pushes in the seat too far, Tyler almost chokes. 

 

“So, Dustin...when’d you start working for Reel Bear?” Tyler inquires, eyes wandering over to Josh. Flushed from his ears to his chest, but Tyler can’t see the latter.

 

“Just finishing an internship, started in September.” He starts off calmly, voice a little pitched when he feels Josh’s foot running up his leg. Dustin smirks, Josh lays his napkin on his lap to hide the growing tent in his pants.  Josh coughs when Dustin pushes his foot on his hard-on.

 

“That’s real funny. Isn’t it, Joshie? You said he started a few days ago. That’s why you had to come help him every night.” He keeps calm, words pouring out through bared teeth and angered smile.

 

 _“Need you now, sugar.”_ Dustin mouths, parting his lips; alluding to an orgasm. _“Please?”_

 

_“Stop it.”_

 

“Oh! Hey Tyler? Isn’t there something on the stove?” He turns around, the pot on the stove broiling over. Tyler scowls, looking over to the stove. Empty, all the pots and pans away from the stovetop. Dustin takes his time tossing a condom over the table when it lands in Josh’s lap. Tyler isn’t quick enough to see it happen.

 

 _“Ugh, Josh. Sweetheart, I need you now. Please, pump into me so hard. Oh! you’re my wet dream, babe. I’ll scream your name.”_ He smirks, Josh trying so hard not to shriek. He briefly contemplates slipping a sedative into Tyler’s drink so he can go while Tyler’s asleep. He decides against it.

 

Tyler grins when Josh swallows the fork of pasta, yawning when the looks at it funny.

 

Tyler watches when Josh falls from his chair, coughing and honestly, Tyler has no regret."Even the rudest men are not immune to rat poison…" He stands up, the chair knocks back, Dustin backing away and tripping back over his chair. "Fuck you, Joshua Dun." Tyler's smirk quivers, he looks to the ~~trash~~   _man_ beside Josh's body. He backs against the wall, fear striking through him. "It--it's been lovely, Dustin….but I am so sorry to do this." He runs a hand through brown hair, a snicker echoes through the dining room and he steps over his dead husband's body.

 

"Please…don't…"

 

"You knew Josh had somebody already." Pulling a small gun from his garter belt, the same one Josh would've gotten to see had he not gone off all the time. "…he had me. And yet he still decided to fuck and tease…" He laughs, shaking his head. _"…with a sinner like you."_ It takes two bullets, blood splatters on the wall and Tyler's lace but his smile isn't displaced. He makes sure to clean the pistol, kick his foot into the wall and bite his fist to resist the urge of crying. 

 

He cries when he dials the phone, sounding helpless and afraid at everything that's happened. Makes sure to remember the make-up kit upstairs, calling Brendon and then police and crying into the phone. "Br--Bren--it--Josh--"

 

And luckily for Tyler, Brendon believes him with remorseful concern….

 

"Ar--are you okay? What happened?"

 

"Come over, _please_ …I made pasta…and--" --and well, Brendon doesn't hesitate. Tyler smirks at the pot on the stove, pursing his lips and shrugging. "Sometimes, they just don't understand." He drops the whacks on the steps, slides off he apron. Dressed to kill.

**Author's Note:**

> @Spookyoldsaintjim, I still have that Lumberjack fic.
> 
> @everybody else, that Bee Movie script fanfiction from a week ago with Beekeeper Josh was me.
> 
> Yay, another year of absolute fuckery. Hopefully 2016 doesn't try to kill me like 2015 did.


End file.
